


Himei

by Josie



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Scream (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:11:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josie/pseuds/Josie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after Nakayama Yuma is found murdered, more Johnnys start to be found dead, and Yamashita Tomohisa finds himself the target of the killer, along with his boyfriend Ikuta Toma, and friends Matsumoto Jun (and boyfriend Ohno Satoshi) and Yokoyama Yuu, as well as local reporter Tegoshi Yuya and detective Masuda Takahisa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Himei

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Reel Johnny.

_“16 year old Johnny’s Entertainment idol Nakayama Yuma of the band NYC was found dead in his dressing room at approximately 9am yesterday. 17 year old Chinen Yuri, also of NYC, was arrested this afternoon after NEWS member Yamashita Tomohisa allegedly saw him leaving the room. Sources say that Chinen had become increasingly jealous of Nakayama’s relationship with the third member of the group, Yamada Ryosuke, and approached the younger boy in his dressing room, stabbing him through the heart.”_

_The news report faded out, and the photograph of Yuma’s smiling face on the screen disappeared, to reveal the voice behind the report. The screen was filled with a man with immaculate dark blond curls, dressed in a bright pink suit and holding a microphone. The expression on the man’s face was one of complete professionalism and almost excitement. This was not a tragedy. This was an amazing news story._

_“At almost this time last year, the entertainment world was rocked by news that one of Johnny’s up and coming stars, Nakayama Yuma, was brutally murdered. A year later though, questions are still being asked. Chinen Yuri, the boy currently serving a life sentence for his murder, has always claimed to be innocent. As the anniversary of the murder approaches, do we really know what happened in that dressing room on that day? This is Tegoshi Yuya signing off.”_

Ninomiya Kazunari padded though his apartment from the kitchen to his living room, and pressed a button on the front of one of several games consoles sitting proudly under his television. Tegoshi Yuya’s smiling face immediately disappeared from the screen and was replaced immediately by the Nintendo logo.

As he took a seat on his couch, legs stretched out in front of him, Wii remote in his hand, his cellphone rang beside him. He picked it up, answering the call immediately. He only gave his cellphone number to people he knew well, and people who knew him well knew that Tuesday evening was his gaming evening (as was every other evening of the week when he had free time) and if they were interrupting that it was either something deathly important, or they were risking being murdered. “Hello?”

“Hello?” a deep, unfamiliar voice spoke back. Nino was silent for a moment as he tried to figure out if it was an echo, but that was not his voice.

“This is the part where you tell me who you are,” he spoke in a slightly baffled tone.

“Who is this?”

“You called me, loser.”

“I must have the wrong number.” The stranger on the phone hung up, and Nino sighed, muttered the word ‘idiot’ under his breath. He pushed his phone into the pocket of his jeans, and was just heading into the kitchen to fetch his snacks, when he felt it vibrating once again. He dug his phone back out.

“Hello?” he spoke, his tone slightly more irritated this time.

“Sorry, I must have the wrong number,” the same voice as previously spoke again.

“Then why did you call it again?”

“To apologise.”

“What the crap? Look, I’m trying to play video games here, call someone else, asshole,” Nino practically spat down the phone, and was just about to hang up again when he heard the voice on the end of the phone speak again.

“Do you want to _die_ tonight?” the stranger spoke, suddenly becoming a lot more sinister..

“No, do _you_?” Nino replied, wielding his Wii remote like a weapon. He rolled his eyes a little, and then ended the call on his phone again, tossing it aside. As he sat himself down on the couch again, he was playing a game of ‘how to get revenge on the member of Arashi who dared to interrupt his game night’ in his head.

He had just gotten to considering putting glue in Jun’s hair gel if it turned out to be him, when there was a loud, urgent sounding knock on the door. “Who the hell is that?” he yelled, more to himself than whoever was at the door, but barely before he had even finished his sentence or managed to climb to his feet, his phone rang again.

“Hello?” he spoke again, his voice now dripping with murderous intent.

“Knock knock, who’s there~” the same voice as before spoke down the phone in a sing-song tone, and Nino frowned and headed through his apartment towards the door, recklessly unbolting the latch on the inside and tugging the door open. He peeked out into the cold night, expecting to be faced by the grinning face of one of his band-mates, but found the area was deserted. He could still hear breathing through the phone pressed against his ear. “And if you hang up on me again, I’ll gut you like a fish,” the stranger told him bluntly.

“Where are you?” he asked suspiciously, the deadly tone in the voice beginning to make Nino wary.

“Go and switch on the light on your balcony.”

Something inside him told Nino that he should do what this man said. With the phone still against his ear, he headed through his apartment and peeked into the darkness outside his glass doors, before flicking on the switch. Immediately, he wished he hadn’t.

Sitting on the chair he kept out on his balcony, was a familiar figure. Ryo Nishikido was tied up by both his hands and his feet, and had duct tape covering his mouth. As he recognised the face staring back at him from inside of the apartment, his eyes widened, and he began to struggle, speaking muffled words that Nino couldn’t even hear through the thick glass.

“Okay,” Nino spoke into the phone, trying to be calm, although his voice was a little shaky. They’d tried to be so discreet, but obviously it hadn’t worked. “Do you want money, is that it? Because I have it, as much as you want.” He wasn’t entirely sure if he was more worried about what would happen to Ryo if they didn’t come to an arrangement, or whether the important thing was that no one else found out about their secret.

“I just want to play a little game,” the voice replied, a slight chuckle evident in the tone; he knew he’d finally broken Nino. “You like games, don’t you, Nino? I’m going to ask you some questions. Get them right, you live. Get them wrong, you die. It’s as simple as that. Now switch the light back off.”

Nino took one last glance at the terrified looking man on the balcony, and then reluctantly did as he was told and then spoke into the receiver again. “Okay, it’s off. What do you want to ask me.”

“Question one,” the voice spoke, again in that sing song tone, as if he were the MC of a game show. “This one is a warm-up question. Who is the oldest member of Arashi?”

“Ohno,” Nino answered with a grin, relaxing a little. Asking him questions about his own group?

“Correct!” the voice spoke enthusiastically. “You passed the test. Now for the real question. What was the name of the character Ohno Satoshi played in the drama Maou?”

Nino didn’t even hesitate before speaking the answer, wanting to get this ordeal over with as soon as possible. “Naruse Ryo,” he replied confidently. The answer was met with a deep laughter from the stranger on the end of the line. 

“Incorrect,” came the response, and the speaker sounded amused, victorious. 

Nino frowned. Not only had he watched that drama, he appeared in an episode of it. “I’ve seen the drama, and I was in it!” he protested.

“Then you should know that his character used that name to hide his identity. His real name was Manaka Tomoo.”

“Shit,” Nino cursed under his breath. “You tricked me.”

“Okay, I’ll give you another chance,” the voice spoke, and Nino let out a sigh of relief, and then the stranger spoke again. “But as for Ryo, he’s out of the game.”

Nino’s heart seemed to momentarily stop as he wondered for a moment what the words could mean, thinking that this couldn’t possibly seriously end in death, could it? Then from the back of his mind he recalled the news report that had been on his television before he had turned on his game console, remembered the events of the year before, and realised that it quite possibly could. He glanced through the darkness through the glass doors leading to his balcony, and thought he could just make out a dark figure, a flash of white, something catching the light of the moon.

He fumbled for the light switch again, and as the balcony was flooded with light and he viewed the scene in front of him, he gagged. This wasn’t a video game, this was real life. Ryo Nishikido had just been murdered in front of his eyes, and not even just murdered. The quick glimpse of the scene he’d witnessed before turning around had told him that the steaming pile of flesh on the ground in front of him had once been inside the other man.

Backing away from the door, one shaking hand reaching out to turn the light back off so he didn’t have to look at the dead man any more, and as the balcony was once again plunged into darkness, he heard that mysterious voice speaking down the phone once again.

“Now, for question three,” he spoke in a deadly tone, and Nino pressed the phone against his ear, his grip on it so tight his knuckles were turning white. He crouched down on the ground beside the wall, his whole body tense. “There are two doors into your apartment, the front door, and the balcony door. Which one am I at?” 

Nino thought over this question, although his head was pounding now. The stranger had been at his front door, because he had knocked on it, but he had just witnessed Ryo being killed on his balcony. Considering whether or not it was possible to even get on his balcony that easily, let alone get from the front door to there in such a short space of time, he decided it had to be. After all, it had happened. He forced himself to stand up and headed back towards the balcony door.

As he put the phone back to his ear to answer the question, something suddenly pushed him forwards, slamming him against the glass. He had barely had time to realise what was happening when he heard a knife being pulled from something, and it took him only moments to realise it was being pulled from him. The pain hit him as he felt a wet stain growing over the back of his shirt. The killer spun Nino to face them. He glanced at the stranger’s face, only to find it was entirely hidden by a white mask, the kind they sold in costume stores.

“Wrong answer,” the voice spoke down the phone before he had even managed to speak.

Nino’s cellphone clattered to the ground, and he reached as shaking hand to the stranger’s face, trying to tug the mask off. If he was going to die, he at least wanted to know who had done it. He had gotten the mask halfway up the man’s face when it hit him. “You...” he murmured in disbelief, but before he had chance to say anything further, the masked man plunged his knife into his chest.

As Ninomiya Kazunari fell to a crumpled heap on the ground, the killer calmly straightened up his mask, and knelt down beside the dead man, retrieving his bloody knife. 

“Game over.”

\---------

Yamashita Tomohisa padded around his apartment lazily, turning off a few light switches in preparation to get an early night, a much needed eight hours after a very hectic schedule. He’d just turned off the main light to his living room and flicked on a small table lamp by his couch, when there was a sudden noise at the window he’d left open to bring in fresh air.

His heart stopped momentarily as he glanced towards the sound, fearing something terrible - a burglar, or worse, a fan. The apartment was two floors up, but he could have sworn he’d heard footsteps on the ground below and then breathing from behind his curtains.

Suddenly, a figure leapt through the window, and Yamashita was about to grab the nearest weapon he could find - the table lamp he’d just turned on - when to his relief, he recognised the figure as his colleague and boyfriend Ikuta Toma.

"Toma, what are you doing?" he hissed, his heart still pounding.

"I suddenly realised that I’ve never snuck through your window before..." Toma replied casually.

"Okay, so now you’ve got that out of your system, what do you want?" Yamashita asked, somewhat annoyed that Toma had decided to come round to see him when he had been about to go to bed.

"Do I need an excuse to come and see you?" Toma asked, approaching the other man from behind and crouching down behind the couch, sliding his arms around Yamashita’s neck. Yamashita gave him a look that said, ‘lately, yes.’ Yamashita had been wondering if Toma was avoiding him on purpose; he’d apparently taken up fishing with Ohno Satoshi.

"Okay, okay, I was watching TV and there was a promo of your new movie and I missed your body," Toma admitted, and he slid his hands towards the bottom of the other man’s shirt to push them underneath. Before he managed to get inside, the other’s hand grabbed his wrist.

“Where have you been?” Yamashita asked suspiciously.

“Fishing trip, I told you right?”

“Okay,” Yamashita sighed, and released the other man’s wrist, giving in. “But don’t get carried away, I have to be up early tomorrow.”

“You always do recently,” Toma frowned, jumping over the back of the couch to land beside the other on the cushion, sliding one around his neck and planting a few kisses on his jawline. Yamashita wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist as Toma pushed him backwards until his head was pressed against the arm of the couch. 

Yamashita met his lips as the other trailed his kisses towards them, and let out a satisfied moan into his mouth as he tasted them, as he felt Toma’s cold hands snaking their way underneath his shirt and against his warm skin. He wouldn’t admit it to the other, not while he was still partly mad at him, but he missed his touches. 

He felt Toma’s hand moving downwards, sliding under the waistband of his jeans, and he shifted uncomfortably. That was one step too far when he was ready for bed and when Toma had abandoned him for days. “Okay okay, that’s enough,” he objected, reaching down and tugging the other’s hand away.

“You’re such a tease.” Toma moved his hand away reluctantly, and pulled away, sitting up again.

Yamashita straightened the cushions on his couch. “They don’t have sex in dramas,” he told him. He was backing the other man back towards the window, really ready to go to bed

“What is that supposed to mean?” Toma asked, blinking.

“It means you’re lucky you even got a kiss,” Yamashita responded with a smirk as Toma climbed back out of the window. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told him, and with that, the window was closed and locked.

\---------

“They kept asking me about fishing,” Ohno spoke up. He, alongside a few others, were sitting in plastic chairs arranged in a horseshoe shape, in the studio in which a large number of the agency’s members were gathered. They had been called there one by one, to hear about an incident the night before.

“Why would they ask you about fishing?”

“Their bodies were gutted, right? That’s why.” The voice came from slightly to the group’s left, and all heads turned towards it. 

Yokoyama Yuu had left the gathering of his own band-mates a short distance away, to join the small group gathered round a tiny monitor screening the latest breakthroughs on the case (of which there were apparently very few). Aiba Masaki had called the police in a panic the night before, after finding his band mate Nino hanging by a rope from the light fitting in his apartment, his insides on the outside. As the police had come to investigate, they had discovered a second body, that of Nishikido Ryo, on his balcony.

“How do you... gut someone?” Yamashita spoke out hesitantly, not really sure if he wanted to know the answer, sure no one would answer anyway. Toma gave him an odd look from his position close beside him. 

“I guess gutting a human is a lot like gutting a fish. You take a knife, and you cut them from end to end,” Ohno replied without a moment of hesitation, as if it was a perfectly normal question, with a perfectly normal answer. All eyes were suddenly on him.

Jun’s face took on a somewhat disgusted expression, and he removed his arm from around the other’s waist, wiping his hands on his shirt as if he was suddenly contaminated. “Thanks for that,” he muttered sarcastically. 

“Oh by the way,” Yoko began, glancing curiously in Ohno’s direction once again. “Are the police aware you used to date the victim?”

“I proposed to him over a public message board, of course they are. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Still mad that he dumped you?” 

“He didn’t dump me. I dumped _him_. For Jun,” Ohno protested, and Jun slid his arms back round him. “Are you suggesting I did it?”

Yoko looked Ohno up and down, seemingly in deep thought, and then shook his head. “Nah. You couldn’t kill anyone.”

“Satoshi was with me last night, anyway,” Jun spoke up before his boyfriend could protest against Yoko’s sceptical attitude. 

“Was that before or after you sliced and diced the Ariake brothers?” Yoko grinned, swiping his arms dramatically in front of him as he spoke.

Yamashita and Toma both groaned in chorus, and Toma gave the speaker a glare. “You’re so insensitive.”

\---------

“The agency is saying ‘safety in numbers’, so why don’t I come round tonight?” Jun spoke down the phone the moment Yamashita answered, without even waiting for him to say hello. “Ohno and Toma are fishing, so I assumed you’d probably be alone.”

Yamashita sighed, not particularly liking the fact that as well as having his boyfriend abandon him during this time of crisis, Matsumoto Jun now seemed to know his schedule.

Taking Yamashita’s silence as a yes, Jun simply said, “I’ll be there at seven,” and ended the call. 

The next thing Yamashita knew, his phone was ringing again. He was spread out on his couch, and had clearly fallen asleep. It was now almost dark outside. He groaned and glanced at the clock on his wall, which read seven thirty five. 

“I’m sorry, I got held up. I’m on my way, okay?” Jun spoke as he answered the call.

“You said seven.” Yamashita was still half asleep, but sounding slightly harsh.

“I know, I know. I’ll make up for it by bringing beer, okay?” Jun replied, no sense of an apology in his tone. People waited for Jun, no matter how late he was. “And I’m bringing a DVD over too.”

“DVD?”

“Hana Yori Dango,” Jun spoke proudly.

“Jun, I don’t want to watch --” he started, and then let out a loud sigh; he didn’t really have the energy to argue. “Just hurry up, okay? Or I’ll be in bed.” He hung up the phone himself this time.

He had just settled back down on the couch again, figuring he could get in another brief power nap before Jun arrived, when his cellphone rang again. He hadn’t even moved it from his hand following his last call, and he furiously answered the second call. “Jun, just get in your -”

“Hello, Yamashita,” a strange voice spoke, and Yamashita was cut off halfway through his sentence. His forehead creased in confusion. He had so been expecting to hear Jun’s voice that the unfamiliarity baffled him for a moment.

“Hello, who are you?” he asked, sitting up on his couch.

“You tell me.”

“I have no idea.”

“Are you alone in the house?”

Yamashita sighed loudly, and relaxed against the cushions on the couch. “Yoko, is this another one of your pranks? Because I’m not buying it.”

A pause, and then the stranger finally spoke again in a deadly serious tone. “I’m not Yoko.”

“Oh really? Then who are you?” Yamashita asked. 

“The question you should be asking is _where_ am I.” 

Yamashita stood up from his couch, giving his apartment a nervous once over with his eyes. “Okay, then where are you?”

“In your apartment.”

Yamashita froze, and glanced around his living room again, sighing when he realised no one was in that room at least. He didn’t know why he was getting so wound up, when this was clearly some kind of prank, someone taking advantage of the fear following the deaths of Ryo and Nino. He unplugged the lamp beside his couch, and held it upside down in one of his hands, keeping the phone pressed against his ear with the other. He could still hear breathing on the end of the line, but he didn’t speak.

He pushed open the door of his bedroom with his elbow, and pushed the lamp inside before moving inside himself, and he glanced around. His bedroom window was open, it was the only way he could think someone would be able to get inside, but the room seemed deserted.

“Liar,” he accused the stranger on the phone. “Yoko, give it up okay?” he sighed, and was about to hang up when the voice spoke again.

“If you hang up on me you’ll die just like your band-mate.” There was a low chuckle, and then he said, “and don’t you know you should always check in the closet?”

Suddenly scared eyes darted over to the closet, just as the door burst open, and from inside a masked and cloaked figure emerged with a knife in one hand. He immediately turned to run back out of the bedroom, but the killer was fast and he launched himself towards him, the pair of them crashing in a heap on the carpet. Yamashita recovered quickly, and from his position on the ground, swung the lamp in his hand towards the masked head. The killer grunted as the metal made contact, and he momentarily let go of the frightened man. 

Yamashita scrambled to his feet, and ran back into his living room, glancing around frantically for an escape route. Thinking quickly, he dashed towards the door to his balcony, and as he pushed it open, the killer was right behind him. He kicked out blindly with one foot, pushing the cloaked man backwards, pulled the key from the inside of the lock and raced through the door, closing and locking it behind him. The killer stood, and tried the door, but it was firmly locked, and Yamashita watched as he stared at him through the glass for a moment, and then turned and disappeared back into the bedroom. 

The man on the balcony watched the door, afraid to move even an inch, even though there was now thick glass between him and the killer. He wondered if he had given up, but the bedroom window was not in a position he could see from his balcony. He pulled out his cellphone, and made a call to the police, not about to take any chances.

He was about to sit down, legs shaking so much he wasn’t sure if he could stand much longer, when he spotted movement from inside, and glanced back through the window. The figure that emerged from his bedroom was not wearing a cloak or a mask, and he immediately recognised him as his boyfriend Toma, who had a worried expression on his face. Yamashita unlocked the door and ran back into the room.

“Toma, thank god!” he spoke loudly, and half-stumbled across the room into his arms. Toma caught him, and held him tightly, glancing around the room nervously.

“What happened?” he asked worriedly, pulling back to look at his boyfriend.

“The killer, the one who killed Ryo and Nino, he was here in the house,” he explained frantically. His eyes were on the bedroom door, where the killer had left not long before, where Toma had entered just a few moments ago. “He went into there, did you see him?” Yamashita pointed to the bedroom. 

Toma let go of Yamashita. “Let me check it out,” he told him bravely, and stepped back. As he started to walk towards the door of the bedroom, Yamashita spotted something in his hand. His cellphone. 

His eyes widened in horror. “Toma, you couldn’t…” he gasped, suddenly everything made sense, why Toma had appeared from the same direction as the killer only moments later.

“What?” Toma frowned, but Yamashita was already backing away, towards the door of the apartment. His confused boyfriend followed after him, and as he opened the door both of them yelled in shock as they came face to face with that white mask again. They both screamed. 

The ‘killer’ screamed back, and pulled the mask away from his face. Underneath, was a short but well built man dressed in a police uniform. 

“Detective Masuda,” the man introduced himself. “I found this,” he added, beckoning to the mask.

As the pair recovered from the shock, a car pulled up behind Masuda’s police car, and Jun stepped out onto the sidewalk, fashionably late as always.

\---------

“I didn’t do it!” Toma was protesting to a detective, as Masuda finished questioning Yamashita on the events of the evening. “I just came round to spend time with my boyfriend, I didn’t even see the masked man.” The detective muttered something that Yamashita couldn’t hear through the glass, and Toma sighed. “Yes, I snuck through his window last night too…”

Yamashita was being led through the station by Masuda, and Jun was walking alongside him. Yamashita had stopped briefly to glance at Toma through the window, and for a moment they had caught each other’s eyes. 

Toma gave him a pleading look. 

Yamashita looked away. 

Masuda was leading them towards the back exit of the police station where a taxi was waiting, as there were crowds of press waiting at the front. However, as he opened the door, he suddenly found a camera thrust in his face. 

Behind the camera was Kato Shigeaki, the camerman who followed Tegoshi Yuya around like a lost puppy, and beside him was the man himself, wielding a microphone. His eyes took on an excited sparkle as he realised who was following the detective. He and Shige had snuck round the back to avoid the rest of the press, and assuming the police would be sensible enough to get Yamashita out this way. 

“What happened? We heard the killer came to your apartment tonight? Is that right? How did you survive? Has Ikuta Toma really been arrested?” Tegoshi shot his questions out like bullets. 

Masuda, rather annoyed that his plan had been discovered, put himself in between Tegoshi and Yamashita. “He’s not answering any questions,” he spoke sternly, although he was not as confident as he usually was. Tegoshi looked even better in person.

“No, it’s okay,” Yamashita shook his head, and gently pushed Masuda aside. “He’s just doing his job.”

Tegoshi smiled, and moved the microphone close to Yamashita’s face. He was just about to open his mouth again, ask his questions in a slightly more controlled manner, when suddenly a fist made contact with his cheek. He fell backwards from the shock, crashing into Shige, whose camera in turn crashed to the ground.

Yamashita stood rubbing his now rather sore knuckles, a satisfied smile on his face as Tegoshi sat on the ground and put his hand to his face, feeling blood from a wound above his eye.

Jun just stood aside, blinking in shock. “Wow, and I thought I was a super bitch.”

\---------

“Do you really think he did it?” Jun asked. He and Yamashita were sitting in his apartment, sipping on beers and listening to the reports from the event on the television. Yamashita had wanted to turn it off, but Jun was interested, and so he just tried not to listen.

Yamashita shrugged, letting out a deep sigh. He’d been asking himself the same question all evening. “He was there,” he replied simply. He didn’t want to think that his boyfriend might be a killer, but he could think of no other explanation.

Jun was just about to reply, when Yamashita’s cellphone vibrated from on the table in front of them. The owner picked it up, and answered the call lazily without checking who it was. “Hello?”

“Looks like you blamed the wrong guy. _Again_.” The voice of the killer. Yamashita’s eyes widened, and he ended the call immediately, tossing the phone across the room. It smashed against the wall, as Jun looked on in shock.

“What? What?!” Jun spoke, glancing from Yamashita to the broken phone on the ground, and back to the other again, but Yamashita couldn’t even speak. Toma was spending the night in jail. It couldn’t have been him.

On the television, there was a CM break, and a preview for a new drama. _“When Chinen Yuri is mistakenly accused of murder, he is forced to try and prove his innocence, with the help of local TV reporter Tegoshi Yuya... New drama, based on real events that occurred last year. Airing in March 2011.”_

\---------

Yamashita was surprised to see that, despite him having injured him the day before, Tegoshi was outside the studio the next morning, as he had been since the events at Nino’s apartment. He hadn’t expected the reporter to want to be on television with a black eye, but as he approached him, he realised Tegoshi had simply covered it the best he could with make-up, and it was business as usual.

“Stop right there,” Tegoshi frowned as he saw the man approaching. He wasn’t risking yet another blemish on his perfect face.

But Yamashita didn’t stop. “I just want to talk,” he reassured him. His hand still hurt from the last punch.

He watched, eyes narrowed, as Tegoshi looked round into the van at Shige, who was reaching for his camera. “Not on camera,” he warned him, and Tegoshi let out a sigh. He was clearly reluctant, but perhaps he could get something interesting out of this conversation regardless.

“I saw the preview for the drama you wrote,” Yamashita continued. “You made me out to be a liar.”

Tegoshi shrugged. “I think you were mistaken. It could have been anyone leaving that room.”

“It was Chinen. I know it was.” 

He sounded unsure, and Tegoshi immediately picked up on it. “There are a lot of people that small and you only saw him from behind.”

Yamashita was already walking off, trying to ignore what the man was saying, choosing to not even reply. Tegoshi jumped into the van and sat beside Shige, his eyes sparkling with excitement. 

“I’m right, aren’t I? An innocent boy in jail! I could save Chinen Yuri. Can you imagine how many dresses... - suits I could buy with the money I’d get from that story?!”

\---------

As Yamashita walked through the main entrance doors of the studio, something black ran towards him, and his heart almost stopped when he caught a glimpse of that white mask and black cloak, and then behind it, a second. 

He turned to run, and as he did, there was laughter behind one of the masks, and he paused, one hand on the door, as one killer, the smaller of the two, slapped the other playfully on the shoulder, and grabbed hold of his arm, still laughing. “Come on, lets go back that way, there’s plenty of other people to scare.”

Yamashita uttered a sigh of relief, and glared at the pair of jokers as they dashed back into the building, thinking that once he worked out who they were, he was going to get them into a lot of trouble.

He pushed open the heavy door leading into the maze of corridors inside, and as he did someone was pulling it from the inside. He let go, and emerging from the gap as it grew bigger, was the man he had accused of murder the night before. Ikuta Toma was clearly as shocked to see him as Yamashita was.

“Toma... They let you go,” Yamashita spoke quietly, unsure what else to say.

“Yeah,” Toma replied, reaching out and placing a hand on Yamashita’s shoulder. “I didn’t do it.”

Yamashita looked him right in the eyes, and nodded. “I know. He called me last night. The killer, I mean.”

“You see, it couldn’t have been me, I was in jail last night,” he replied, slightly bitter but glad that there was now proof for Yamashita that he was innocent.

“I know,” Yamashita bowed his head, barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Toma leaned against the now closed door, and stared at Yamashita genuinely. “No. I’m sorry. If I’ve done something to hurt you, I’m really sorry. I just... want my boyfriend back,” he admitted.

Yamashita’s expression softened for a moment, and then he frowned. “Toma, I’ve been working. It’s important. And it’s been difficult. It’s nearly a year, Toma.”

“Exactly, it’s been a year. You saw a dead body, it’s hard, yeah... but get over it already,” Toma laughed, trying to lighten the situation a little.

Yamashita glared, and reached over, hitting him on his arm. “You’re such an idiot,” he spat at him, and turned on his heel, storming back out of the door.

Toma sighed loudly, and slapped himself lightly round the head. “Yeah, Toma. You’re an idiot.”

\---------

_“Due to recent events, until further notice, all Johnnys activities have been suspended. In addition to this, all agency members must be at home by 9pm every evening, and it is advisable to remain in groups when at all possible. Please remember, Johnnys Entertainment staff are committed to your safety.”_

As a mass of cheers erupted from various rooms in the studio, where the staff had once again gathered all the idols they could, Tegoshi Yuya was hovering outside waiting for any kind of snippet of news he could report on. There were a few other reporters around, all filming reports on not much at all, but Tegoshi wasn’t going to report on just anything. He wanted the best news there was. He headed up the steps towards the entrance to the studio upon hearing the announcement, to see what information he could gather.

Masuda Takahisa pounced on Tegoshi the moment he pushed open the door. “You shouldn’t be here,” he pointed out bluntly, and cursed himself inwardly for having to say that to him. His eyes went to the bruise darkening the man’s eye, which he had clearly tried to cover with make-up.

Tegoshi let out a trademark giggle, and looked the police officer up and down, giving him a rather seductive look that made the other man’s heart beat just a little bit faster. “I know, I know, I should be in the USA digging the dirt on Jin Akanishi, but apparently budget doesn’t stretch that far.”

“You’re a lot better looking in person,” Masuda suddenly stammered. He clearly hadn’t been listening to a word the other had been saying. Even with a bruised eye, Tegoshi was the most gorgeous – prettiest – man he had ever set eyes on.

“Are you sure you’re old enough to be a police officer?” Tegoshi teased.

“... I’m twenty four, Tegoshi-san.”

“You can call me Yuya,” Tegoshi replied dismissively, waving his arm. “Do they require you to work out?” he asked, eyeing the other man’s bare arms. He reached out, and lightly touched Masuda’s biceps, just enough to make the police officer shiver. He glanced around to see if anyone was nearby and had noticed; he had a reputation to protect, after all.

“No... But because of my boyish good looks, muscle mass has increased my acceptance as a serious police officer.”

Tegoshi seemed happy with this answer, a smile forming on his face. “I didn’t think you’d need to watch my show. Being a detective and all, you should know everything already, shouldn’t you?”

“I have my reasons.” Masuda laughed nervously, deciding not to elaborate, and decided he ought to leave before he embarrassed himself further. He pulled open the door to go back into the building.

“Have you considered Yamada Ryosuke as a suspect?” Tegoshi asked before he could shut the door behind him, getting right back to business.

Masuda held open the door just long enough to reply. “We... haven’t ruled him out as a possibility.”

\---------

“Well I don’t know what you did, but on behalf of the whole agency, thanks for the free holiday,” Ohno commented as he joined Yamashita as he left the studio. Jun was following close behind, and as they slowed to match the other’s pace, he slid his arms around his boyfriend’s neck from behind. 

“I have to almost be killed for anyone to get a holiday, I’m not sure what’s so good about that but you’re welcome,” Yamashita replied, managing a small smile. 

Jun removed one hand from Ohno’s neck and place it around Yamashita’s, pulling them both close together. “I’ve managed to persuade them to let us have a party in the studio tonight. Safety in numbers and all that. It was Ohno’s idea, but I made it happen. You’re going to come, right?”

“Party? Yeah, of course. Count me in,” Yamashita nodded He was never one to miss out on a party.

A wide smile came to Jun’s face. “Awesome! Okay, I’m going to go sort out the entertainment. I’ll catch you guys later,” he told them, and released their necks, dashing off back towards the building. 

\---------

“You disgust me,” a deep and booming voice spoke. Even someone walking past the outside of the office of Johnny Kitagawa’s office winced in sympathy for whoever was inside. 

Inside the office, behind a huge desk, Johnny sat with his arms folded across the table, and he was leaning forwards, glaring at two terrified looking Juniors sitting opposite him on cheap plastic chairs.

“It was just a joke,” Kawai laughed nervously.

“It was his idea,” Akun protested. “He said he needed to use me because I was tall.” Kawai snickered, and then glared as he realised the other was putting the entire blame on him. 

“A couple of your seniors are dead, another nearly died last night, and you think running around dressed in this -” He held up the white masks he’d confiscated from the guys, along with two black cloaks. “ - is a joke?”

Johnny stood up from behind his desk, and picked up a pair of scissors from inside one of his drawers, stepping round towards the pair. He launched the scissors at Akun, creating a large tear in his shirt, but not piercing his skin. Kawai looked on in horror, but breathed a sigh of relief when he realised there was no blood. “You’re both suspended,” he told them harshly. “Now get out and go home, before I decide to do something worse.

Kawai mouthed the word, ‘worse’, and gave Akun a worried glance, and both of them took one look at the pair of scissors in Johnny’s hand, and were in such a hurry to leave the room that they both knocked their chairs over on the way out.

Johnny peered out of the door, to check they had gone, and then he closed the door of his office. He threw the masks and cloaks on a couch in the corner of his office and headed back to his seat, leaning back and wondering how he was going to explain this to the press. Tokyo had been rocked by the thought that there was a serial killer on the loose, and the fact that two of his agency’s members were joking about that was not something he wanted to be made public.

He closed his eyes and stretched his arms above his head, trying to relax. Behind him, the door of a large cabinet slipped silently open, and a dark figure wearing the same kind of mask he had just tossed aside climbed out, a knife held high above his head. He put the other hand on the back of the chair, and spun Johnny round to face him.

Before the man had time to react, the killer had struck, stabbing him right through his heart. He slumped in his chair, and he was only able to stare up at the white mask as the stranger plunged the knife into his chest again. As Johnny’s eyes slipped closed and he took his last breath, the man in the white mask wiped the blood from his knife, and put it away, before slipping out of the office unnoticed.

\---------

As Ohno entered the entertainment store, having been ordered by Jun to go and check that Yoko wasn’t buying anything he would disapprove of, the very one he was there to check up on tapped him on the shoulder from behind. “What are you doing here?”

Ohno spun round. “Oh, just browsing. What about you?”

“I was just picking up some entertainment for tonight. I was put in charge by Jun,” Yoko told him proudly. It was quite an honour to be trusted with what the whole agency would be watching at the party tonight.

Ohno peeked into the basket Yoko was carrying, and gave him an odd look. “AKB48? Really?”

“Subaru wanted girls,” Yoko shrugged, picking a CD from the shelf and glancing at the back of it. After a moment, his gaze moved over the other’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s very subtle.”

Ohno turned round to follow the other man’s gaze. Ikuta Toma was under a huge sign that read ‘horror’, looking at DVDs. “What?” he asked cluelessly.

“He’s a suspect in a brutal double murder and he’s checking out the horror section?”

“Eh, Toma didn’t kill anyone. Why would he want to kill Yamashita?”

“There’s always some bullshit reason to kill Yamapi,” Yoko shrugged, thinking about it for a moment. “Maybe he wouldn’t have sex with him,” he suggested.

“Do you know who I think it is?” Ohno spoke, only half-heartedly paying attention as he read the text on the back of a DVD about fishing. “Yamada. What happened last year ruined his life, right? One band mate dead, the other in prison for life. That would screw you up.”

“Too obvious,” Yoko replied dismissively. “I’m good at this secret stuff, right? You make it too obvious, and people won’t keep watching. You have to keep people guessing. Everyone is a suspect, and everyone is in danger. But if I had to guess, Toma would be my choice.” 

“Maybe you’re the killer, huh?” a voice spoke from behind Yoko, and two hands planted themselves on his shoulders. Toma had snuck up behind the pair while they were distracted with their conversation, and Yoko’s imagination was running so wild that for a moment he was afraid that Toma might have a knife in one of those hands. “Maybe this is just all one big prank that has gone horribly wrong.”

Yoko shrugged, and turned to face Toma. “Yeah, I admit, if this was a drama, I’d be a pretty big suspect. Maybe Yamashita here killed my little brother when we were at school or something like that. Revenge. It’s not that creative, but it works.”

“Revenge, huh?” Toma laughed loudly, ignoring the obvious dig at one of his own dramas. “I like that,” he added, and patted Yoko on the shoulder, before heading towards the registers.

“Are you telling me that’s not a killer?”

\---------

The party was in full swing by the time Tegoshi Yuya’s news van pulled into the parking lot of the studio. Shige, his loyal cameraman, drove around the back of the studio, and parked up in the shadows, somewhere they could remain hidden. 

Tegoshi slipped out of the van, a small camera hidden in a pocket inside his bright pink suit-jacket, and he strode confidently round the side of the building. 

“What are you doing here?” a voice suddenly spoke out just as he was about to reach the door, and a smile came to the reporter’s face as he recognised the voice. 

“Massu,” he spoke warmly, deciding to give him an affectionate nickname. “I’m looking for a story, as always.”

“Don’t call me Massu, I’m Detective Masuda right now, I’m on duty,” Masuda replied in an authoritative tone, although it was hesitant. “There are no stories here, just a bunch of guys chilling out.”

“Still,” Tegoshi winked, and Masuda’s heart skipped a beat. “I think I’ll check it out.” He walked up the steps. He heard footsteps behind him, and a hand took hold of his own. 

“Let me come with you,” Masuda spoke in his ear, and Tegoshi nodded. 

As they walked into the room where the main party was being held, all eyes turned to look at them. Some of the younger juniors hid bottles of beer round their backs as they spotted Masuda’s police badge, older ones looked on in amazement at the reporter at his side who suddenly found himself surrounded.

“I watch your show every day,” one junior gasped, as another felt in his pocket for a piece of paper to get an autograph from the man.

Yamashita was standing nearby with a bottle of beer, and as he spotted Tegoshi in the room, he glared a little and stamped over to Masuda, wondering what he was thinking inviting the man he’d witnessed him punching inside. “What is he doing here?” he asked the detective harshly as Tegoshi left him to go and mingle with some of the other idols.

“He’s with me.” Masuda’s voice was full of pride, smiling so his wide his eyes were just slits.

Neither of them spotted Tegoshi slipping a camera on a shelf in one corner of the room.

 

“There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to successfully survive a Johnnys horror movie,” Yoko was saying. He had stood up, interrupting the girls his band mates, along with several other idols, were mostly enjoying watching on the screen, because they just didn’t seem to understand.

“Number one,” he began, holding out his beer bottle in an almost threatening manner. “You can never have sex. Particularly not with one of your fellow group members.” He eyed Jun as he spoke, who had his arm almost attached around Ohno’s waist.

“Hey, we didn’t do that… yet,” Jun protested.

“Yet,” Yoko repeated, before continuing. “Number two, you can never debut, no matter how much you might want to. So, basically we’re all doomed.”

There was a groan from across the room. Someone threw a piece of popcorn at him.

“And number three. You can never say, ‘I’ll be right back’, because you won’t be back.”

“I’ll be right back,” Jun whispered in Ohno’s ear, and removed his arm from the other man’s waist before standing up. A quick reach into his pocket had told him he had left his cigarettes in the car, and although he didn’t smoke often, parties where other people were smoking gave him a craving. He headed out of the studio, beginning to head through the maze of corridors that led towards the studio’s entrance. 

Once he was through the last set of double heavy doors, he pulled his jacket further over his shoulders, bracing himself for the cold, and pushed on the entrance door. It didn’t budge, so he pushed it again, and with a frown, he peeked through the small gap between the door and the frame, and spotted the metal latch securing the door shut. “No cigarettes for me then,” he muttered to himself, but decided he’d head back into the party and see if he could smile his way into getting one from someone else.

That decision made, he turned round and to his shock, came face to face with a white mask, which he recognised as the same one he’d seen Juniors using to scare people recently; the same one supposedly worn by the killer. Another Junior finding the recent killing spree far more fun than they should, he supposed. 

“You should probably take off that costume, you’ll get demoted,” Jun warned, but the figure remained deadly still for a moment, and then reached into a pocket in the costume, pulling out a knife.

“Ah I see, someone is trying to get themselves a drama role. Okay, okay, I’ll go with this.” Jun grinned, and then his expression changed to one of over-acted horror. “You can’t kill me. Do you know who I am?” he spoke dramatically, putting on his best diva voice.

The masked figure shook his head, and the smile on Jun’s face turned into an over-exaggerated frown.

“I’m Domyoji Tsukasa, you bastard,” he responded bluntly, and launched his foot towards the other. It was a rather ambitious move, and he had been aiming to kick the mask from the other’s face, but as he lifted his leg, the stranger grabbed hold of it with one hand, and plunged his knife into Jun’s thigh.

Jun crashed to the ground, pain searing through his left leg, looking back in horror as a trail of blood began to spread across the tiled floor. The killer watched silently as he desperately dragged himself across the ground towards the heavy door that led back the way he had come. Jun reached out his arms and pushed on the door, the effort visible in all of his facial features, but from the ground, the huge door was impossible to budge.

The injured man heard footsteps behind him, the killer approaching him, and he stopped pushing. This was it, he was going to die, and he wouldn’t even leave a pretty corpse. But to his astonishment, the killer stepped up beside him, and with one gloved hand, pushed on the door. His hope was renewed as he saw the gap slowly appearing, and he dragged himself forwards through the door, determination showing in his features.

With one swift movement, the killer let go of the door, just as Jun had managed to get his head through the gap. He barely had time to even react, before the heavy metal made contact with the back of his neck, and there was a sickening crack. As Jun’s body went still, the killer wiped the blood from his knife, and pushed on the door again, slipping through the crack.

\---------

There was a knock on the door of the news van in which Tegoshi and his cameraman Shige were keeping an eye on the camera watching the party taking place in the nearby studio. Somewhat cautiously, Tegoshi slipped open the door, and found himself face to face with Detective Masuda again, complete with a rather love-sick grin on his face.

“I was just going to have a wander around, follow up on a few reports. Do you want to join me?” he asked hopefully, the wide smile on his face reducing his eyes to two slits. If Tegoshi questioned it, he would tell him that he thought it might be useful for whatever article he was writing on the case, but the truth was that he just really wanted to spend more time with the journalist.

Tegoshi seemed to consider this for a moment, and then he smiled back, and moved one hand to the other’s shoulder. “Sure, why not,” he agreed, and climbed out of the vehicle. “I’ll be right back,” he told Shige, who was focused on the screen they had set up inside the van.

As they began to make their way down the sidewalk leading away from the studio, Tegoshi reached for the other’s hand, and took hold of it. “So, can I call you Massu?” he asked, laughing at the thought of the other’s previous reluctance to accept the name.

Masuda was about to answer, tell Tegoshi he could call him whatever he wanted, when the sidewalk was suddenly flooded with the light from three cars racing from behind them. Masuda spun round to face the vehicles. His eyes widened as he faced the speeding cars coming towards them, cars filled with drunk and slightly over-excited Kanjani8 members. “Hey! You’re going too fast! Stop!” he demanded, but it quickly became clear that whoever was driving the vehicles weren’t planning on obeying his orders, even if they could hear them over the roar of the engines.

Masuda thought quickly, and as the cars edged swiftly closer, he grabbed hold of Tegoshi’s arm, and dragged him out of the way as they passed by. The force of his movement combined with the strong breeze as the cars passed, forced the pair of them to the ground, and as everything died down, Masuda realised they were lying on the hard concrete sidewalk, and that Tegoshi was underneath him.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” he spoke quickly. He was so close he could feel the other’s breath on his face.

Tegoshi let out a quiet giggle, and freed one of his hands from the other’s grasp, placing it on the man’s cheek. “We had to almost be killed to get into this position, don’t you think that’s sad, Massu?” he spoke softly, but before Masuda had chance to answer, Tegoshi’s lips were pressed against his, silencing him. Masuda’s face showed his shock only momentarily, before he placed his hand on top of the one on his cheek, entwining his fingers with the other’s, and began to kiss him back. His heart was pounding, and it wasn’t just because of their near miss.

“You know, you’re not as bad as they say you are,” Masuda whispered when they finally parted for breath.

“You think? I think you’re just saying that because you’re biased,” Tegoshi replied with a chuckle, and leaned up to kiss the other once again. 

When they parted their lips a second time, Tegoshi’s head fell a little to one side, and he suddenly spotted something lying a few inches away from where his left arm was outspread. “Is that what you’re looking for?” he asked.

“My whole life,” Masuda replied immediately. He was still staring down at Tegoshi, who laughed, and used the hand on his cheek to turn his head to follow his own gaze.

Lying on its side on the sidewalk was a bicycle that seemed to have been abandoned in a hurry, and its presence caused Masuda to immediately roll from on top of the other and sit up. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled photograph, taken by a surveillance team earlier that day.

“This is Yamada Ryosuke’s bike.”

\------

“I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like an idiot, haven’t I?” Toma sighed. He and Yamashita had found an empty room in the studio to talk in private away from the noise of the party, and Yamashita was sitting in a large chair behind the table Toma was perched on the corner of.

Yamashita leaned forwards, crossing his arms across the table. “You haven’t,” he admitted, although it was the first time he’d really considered perhaps he was a little at fault. “I’ve been busy with filming, it’s understandable that you’d want to spend time with someone else when I wasn’t there. I also accused you of murder,” he laughed lightly, and reached out with one hand, placing it on top of the other’s.

“I’ve been selfish,” Toma admitted. “It was hard for you, wasn’t it? Finding that kid’s body.”

“It was a year ago, it’s fine.”

Toma shook his head. “I’ve seen it in dramas. It looks like a terrible thing to experience.”

“This isn’t a drama, Toma,” Yamashita responded. He stood up from his chair and perched on the table beside the other, his head resting on the other man’s shoulder. “If it was a drama, there’s no way they would have killed Ryo first.”

“Life is all one big drama, Yamashita.”

Yamashita smirked, and sat up straight, putting his hand on Toma’s chest, and pushing gently until the man was lying on his back on the hard table. He shifted his position, kneeling up on the table and leaning over Toma, mouth close to his ear. One hand slid down the other’s body, fingers unfastening the button on the other’s jeans, and he pushed his fingers underneath. “If it was a drama,” he whispered as his hand slipped under the waistband of his underwear. “I wouldn’t be doing this.”

\---------

“What is this? I asked for girls. Where are all the boobs?” The other members of the band seemed to be enjoying the entertainment Yoko had bought, but Subaru was sitting with his arms folded staring at the television with a disgruntled look on his face. 

“That’s called porn, and the last thing I want with all of this going on is to be photographed entering a porn shop,” Yoko pointed out. Not that he thought he’d know what to do in a porn shop even if Subaru had managed to persuade him into it. “Besides, they’re still girls, aren’t they?” he spoke, although he wasn’t entirely convinced himself. He would have preferred more boobs, too. 

As things went silent again and the guys returned to concentrating on the television, Yoko’s cellphone rang in his pocket. “Hello?” he spoke into the phone, and a rather frantic voice began to speak so fast that Yoko had to mute the television to hear, much to the other party-goer’s annoyance. “What? You’re kidding?” he spoke, mouth open in shock, and nodded before ending the call.

“Guys, they just found Johnny dead in his office. He was stabbed and hung from a hanger in the closet,” he explained, stepping in front of the television to turn their attention away from what was on the screen. Everyone in the room went silent. Subaru frowned and twisted his body a little to try and see the television from behind Yoko.

“I don’t believe you,” Ohkura spoke out finally, in a blunt tone, and everyone else nodded. He glanced around at those sitting on the sofa. “I say we go and find out for ourselves,” he decided.

“Yeah!” Hina agreed, and the now rather drunken group climbed to their feet swiftly; before Yoko could argue further, they were on their way out of the room, footsteps clattering down the corridors.

“Guys...” Yoko spoke with a sigh once they had left, flopping down on the couch and turning the sound on the television back up. “We were about to get to the hot part,” he protested to himself, taking a long sip from his bottle of beer.

\---------

Toma stood by the bed, zipping up his jeans, as Yamashita, sitting on the corner of the table, buttoned up his shirt. 

“You know,” Yamashita spoke, bowing his head a little. “I still don’t understand how you managed to get in my bedroom window only moments after the killer left, and didn’t see him.”

Toma stopped what he was doing, and glanced at Yamashita, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t still think I did it, do you?”

Yamashita shook his head immediately, realising how what he had said sounded. “No,” he replied rather too unsurely, and was just about to repeat it with more confidence, when he spotted something behind Toma, and his eyes widened fearfully. “Toma! Watch out!” he yelled.

Toma spun round to find out what Yamashita was staring at, and was met by a slash with a knife to his stomach. He glimpsed the white mask just for a moment before he was slashed again, and then a third time, and on the brink of death, he turned back to face his boyfriend. “Yamashita… run!” he managed, just before he fell to the ground in a heap. 

Yamashita barely had chance to take in that his boyfriend was dead, before he was forced to manoeuvre himself past the killer and out of the door of the room, hearing footsteps close behind him as he headed up a flight of stairs to the next floor. 

He tried all the doors along the corridor as he ran along the studios second level, but they were all locked, and as he got close to the end he realised he needed to act quick. There was a window, slightly open, to his right. He gripped hold of the frame and tugged it upwards, climbing through the gap. As the killer struck out with his knife, he jumped the two floors to the ground, landing on his feet and tripping to the ground, his ankle twisted. When he looked to the window, the killer had disappeared.

\---------

“I wonder where they were going,” Masuda considered as they made their way back to the studio. He still hadn’t quite got over the shock of almost being run over, and finding Yamada’s bicycle hidden right nearby the studio had made him even more nervous. The hand that was now gripping Tegoshi’s hand again was shaking. 

When they reached the entrance of the studio, his heartbeat accelerated again and he thought he might have found the answer to his question. The main entrance was wide open. He let go of Tegoshi’s hand and pulled his gun from his belt. “Go and call for backup,” he spoke, heading towards the entrance. Perhaps he could be a hero, save the day and get rid of that mock-worthy “Massu” nickname for good.

As he disappeared through the door, Tegoshi reached in his pocket for his cell phone, and realised he had left it in the news van. He broke into a run to head round the side of the building where they were parked; this seemed like it was going to turn out to be urgent. He wished Shige was there following him with his camera. Breaking news. The killer is in the studio.

\---------

Yamashita had temporarily given the killer the slip, but the studio was like a maze, with doors everywhere, even on the outside, and as he hobbled round the side of the building on his injured ankle, he was afraid the masked man might suddenly barge out of one of the many that he was passing. When he saw the news van ahead, he increased his speed, despite his limp. “Help!” he yelled as he saw a figure inside the van. 

The door was opened, and Shige poked his head out from the inside. He was chewing away at a chocolate bar. “What?” he asked suspiciously; Tegoshi had told him to stay hidden, and he could be kind of scary when he was angry. 

“The killer is in the studio! He just killed Toma and oh god, I think he’s after me!” Yamashita spoke out as he climbed into the van and tugged the door shut. He flopped himself down in the empty seat in the van, and allowed himself to catch his breath for a moment. The killer couldn’t get him in here.

Shige, watching the sudden dramatic events in silence, pointed towards the screen showing the cameras they’d set up in the studio. On one screen, Yoko was sprawled out on the couch in front of the television, clearly drunk and singing along to the songs he was watching on the screen. “He’s not on any of these-” he started, and then his gaze fell on the screen surveying Yoko once again. From a doorway in the corner, a dark figure was entering the room unnoticed. 

Both Yamashita and Shige immediately began to yell at the screen, despite that the drunken man couldn’t hear them, and then Shige suddenly recalled something. “Damn! There’s a thirty second delay.” He reached over and peeked out of the van, glancing around, eyes wide. A knife appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and slid across the man’s throat. Blood began to pour from the open wound, and Yamashita could only watch from horror from the inside as Shige tried to speak, but collapsed on the ground outside the van and died without managing to get out a single word.

The masked man leaped towards the door, and Yamashita managed to partly close the door, but Shige’s arm was in the way, and before he could push it away, the killer had the door open again. Yamashita glanced around desperately, looking for an escape route, and quickly climbed into the front seat of the news van. He moved for the ignition, but the keys were gone, and so he pulled open the door and ran as fast as he could away from the studio, while the killer was still making his way back out of the van.

\---------

Tegoshi was out of breath by the time he made it round the side of the studio back to the news van, and it was a moment of catching his breath before it even occurred to him that the door was open and Shige was gone. “Shige!” he yelled at the top of his voice, not the best choice of tone when there was a killer around, but he was furious that his cameraman had left. What if he needed him to film? 

Stepping up to the van to climb inside, he decided the most important thing was to find his cellphone and call the police but as he put his foot on the step inside he was distracted by what he had stepped in. He glanced down, and under his foot was a dark red puddle dripping from the step onto the ground beneath. Suddenly, the thought that Shige might have just walked off and left him was the least of his worries.

He climbed into the van, pushing his way into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. First priority, get the hell out of there. As he began to move forwards and turned his gaze forwards through the glass to drive away, he realised there was a large stain on the outside of the window obscuring most of his view, and he flicked the switch for the wipers, quickly realising the stain was more blood.

His driving became panicked, erratic, he accidentally reversed into a fence, and suddenly moving forwards again, something slid down his windshield from the van’s roof, and Tegoshi suddenly found himself staring into the eyes of his dead cameraman who had been dislodged from his position on the van’s roof by Tegoshi’s sudden acceleration. 

Tegoshi screamed. Immediately hit with a huge urge to get as far away as quickly as possible, he accelerated again and pulled out of the studio’s grounds, turning a sharp corner to head down the street. The body on his windshield slid from the car and crashed to the ground as the car moved forwards. “I’m sorry Shige, but thanks for that,” he breathed a sigh of relief, glad he didn’t have to stare at the dead man any more.

He was just recovering from the first shock, trying to distract himself by figuring out a headline for his next report, a title for the fantastic drama this whole event would make, when a figure appeared in the road in front of him. Yamashita was waving frantically, begging for him to stop. Tegoshi acted quickly, swerving to avoid the man, and ran straight into the wall of a nearby building. It no longer felt so much like a fantastic drama. His head slumped onto the steering wheel as he fell unconscious. 

\---------

Yamashita didn’t stop to check the condition of the man who had almost hit him. 

While he had been running around trying to find help, it had suddenly hit him that Masuda’s car had been parked outside the studio, and he’d remembered the Detective visiting the party to check they were all safe, and as he approached the studio again, he was relieved to see the car still parked outside. 

He reached the car just as he spotted movement from the corner of his eyes, and a quick nervous glance revealed Masuda walking out of the studio’s main entrance. “Massu!” he yelled, beginning to run towards him, watching in horror as the detective slumped to the ground on the steps. He spotted the handle of a knife, and discovered its blade was stuck in the man’s back. 

Instinctively, he began to run towards him, leaned down to check if he was alive, but he was distracted once again by two anguished voices shouting his name. He spun towards the voices.

“Yamashita!” Yoko yelled, pointing accusingly at Ohno, who was the other one shouting his name. “He did it! He’s the killer!”

As Ohno responded by accusing Yoko, Yamashita reached down and took the gun from Masuda’s belt, pointing it at the pair of them. 

Ohno stuck his hands up, staring into the end of the gun. “I didn’t do it. I couldn’t kill anyone, Yoko said that himself,” he told him in his usual calm tone. “He’s gone crazy. I found Jun’s body, I think he did it.”

Yamashita didn’t even wait for Yoko to protest again, with the knowledge that yet another member of the agency was dead, he backed up and pushed open the entrance door to the studio, slipping inside. “Fuck you both,” he spoke a little harshly, and shut the door behind him, bolting it from the inside. There was frantic knocking from outside.

\---------

Ikuta Toma, presumed dead by Yamashita what felt like hours earlier, was making his way towards the reception area his boyfriend had just entered, shirt slashed and stained with blood, but very alive and as well as he could be.

He stumbled through the last door into the room, and Yamashita spun round, gun pointed straight at the figure, and upon realising who it was, his eyes widened, and he dashed over to the man, who had collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. “Toma, I thought you were dead...” he spoke, pulling the injured man into a hug. 

The loud knocking on the door continued, and Toma looked up towards the noise, glancing at Yamashita, and down at the gun in his hand. “It’s okay, I’m okay,” he told him reassuringly, stroking the other man’s hair a little with his fingers. “Now give me the gun, it’s okay.”

Yamashita slipped the gun into Toma’s waiting hand, and the man stood up, making his way slowly to the door. He pulled open the lock, and before he could even pull it open, someone pushed it from the outside, and Yoko fell inside, gasping for breath, his knuckles red from knocking so hard.

There was another voice from outside the door, but Toma slammed it shut, fiddling with the lock until it closed. On the outside, banging could be heard for a few moments, before it quietened down. Ohno had given up and left. Toma sighed with relief, and examined the gun he’d taken from the other man, glancing at the other two in the room.

“I was telling the truth! I didn’t do anything!” Yoko spoke frantically, reaching out to grip Yamashita’s shoulders.

“This is the truth that closes in like darkness.” Toma replied with a smirk, raised the gun, and took a shot at Yoko, hitting him in the shoulder. The force if the impact caused the victim to be thrown backwards and he landed in a heap on the hard concrete, clutching his shoulder in pain. “Arashi. Truth. 2008.”

Yamashita’s gaze moved from his boyfriend by the door, to the now unconscious man on the ground nearby, and then back again, not able to take his eyes off the gun the other was still holding out in front of him. His brain was trying to make sense of something that simply didn’t make sense. 

Toma lowered the gun, and lifted his blood-stained shirt, revealing smooth, uninjured skin underneath. “They used those blood packs a lot when we were filming Maou. Pretty effective, aren’t they?” Shirt lowered again, he began to walk towards the shocked man, gun still in his outstretched arm.

Yamashita backed up, and after a few steps, found himself tripping into the arms of someone standing behind him. He tried to glance round while keeping one eye fixed firmly on the danger in front of him, and spotted hair that unmistakably belonged to Ohno Satoshi, who had emerged from somewhere behind the pair. He was a little out of breath, having clearly quickly found another way back into the building.

He uttered a rather pathetic cry for help, and turned to face his supposed saviour, whose lips were curved in a sadistic smile that Yamashita had never seen on his face when he wasn’t acting. Ohno moved a small electronic device to his lips, and when he spoke into it, his voice turned to that which had been tormenting him over the phone. “You...” Yamashita’s eyes widened in horror, his gaze once again turning to his best friend, the one still holding the gun. 

“I didn’t want to have to do this, Yamashita,” Toma spoke coldly, and he walked forwards, holding the gun in such a threatening manner that he began to walk backwards again. Ohno stepped aside, and Toma lead Yamashita until he was backed up against the building’s reception desk. With the other trapped, he set the gun down and pulled out a sharp kitchen knife, holding it against the man’s throat.

There was silence for a moment, and then a quiet alarm began to sound from somewhere in the room. Yamashita glanced around hopefully, but the other two in the room just smirked knowingly. “Midnight,” Toma explained, and then glanced at Ohno. “Congratulations, we killed Nakayama Yuma one year ago. But hmmm, I wonder where that alarm is coming from. Satoshi, why don’t you reveal our big surprise?” 

Yamashita watched suspiciously as Ohno made his way behind the reception desk, where hidden from view, a figure lay tied up and gagged underneath. As he dragged the boy out, Yamashita’s eyes widened and Toma simply grinned. 

“Yamashita, say hello to Yamada Ryosuke,” he told him, and all eyes turned to the terrified looking boy, tied with duct tape round his wrists and ankles, and unable to speak due to a large piece taped over his mouth. The alarm was sounding from a cellphone in his pocket, which Ohno removed for a moment to silence. Them, he threw the boy to the ground, abandoned for now.

“Why are you doing this? Why did you kill Yuma? And why do you want to kill me?”

“Why? You’re asking me why?” Toma reached out to Ohno, who, as if on cue, handed him a small pile of CDs. “Look at this.” He held one of the CDs up in front of the other man’s face. “You.” He held up another. “Oh and look, you again~” he spoke again, and then held up a third. “You, with five other people. You, you, you. But where is me, hm? You promised me, Yamashita. You told me we’d always do everything together.”

“But you get to do all those movies...” Yamashita responded quietly.

Toma seemed to take particular offense to this, and pressed the knife further up against the other’s neck. Yamashita was afraid to move an inch, in case the sharp blade pierced his skin. “I don’t want to do movies. I want to do concerts and wear sparkly outfits. I want uchiwas!”

The deadly silence returned once again, and then Toma suddenly seemed to forget his moment of anger, and the smile returned to his face. “Have you figured it out yet?” he asked. “It’s been a year since we murdered Yuma. Yamada was his best friend. He snaps, goes on a killing spree, When the police arrive, they find everyone dead... except for us. We’re badly injured, but we manage to hold on. Doesn’t it sound like a drama plot?”

Ohno left Toma to the explanation, standing behind him, peeking round one side to see Yamashita, since he was too small to look over his shoulder. He nodded enthusiastically in the appropriate places, and once he had finished, that sadistic look reappeared on his face. “We’ll be heroes.”

Toma moved the knife away from Yamashita’s neck and as the man rubbed his neck to check for injury, Toma turned to his partner-in-crime, and held up the knife. “Are you ready for this?” he asked him seriously. Once Ohno nodded, Toma held the knife tightly in his hand, and as Ohno braced himself, he launched it forwards, stabbing the other man in his side, not deep enough to cause him serious injury, but bad enough to make it look like he was lucky to be alive.

Ohno staggered backwards, clutching his side in pain. “Wow, that was pretty bad,” he groaned. Before he really had time to recover fully, Toma was handing him the knife.

“Your turn,” he told him as Ohno gripped the handle. “Remember, stay to the side and don’t go in too deep,” he warned him. Ohno considered these instructions, and then pushed the knife through the thin fabric of the man’s shirt, and pierced his skin just below his ribs. 

The man groaned, but there was a crazed smile on his face, despite his pain. “That was a good one. Now do it again,” he ordered.

Yamashita, still pressed back against the reception counter, afraid to move barely an inch, watched the scene unfolding in horror, wincing each time he heard the knife piercing skin. “I knew you shouldn’t have done Maou!” he spoke up in horror. “I told you it was a bad idea. Look what it’s done to you...”

“You’re blaming Maou? Don’t blame Maou, Yamapi, it taught us some things, sure, but both of us died in that. This time, everyone dies but us,” Toma replied, clutching his side, his voice now slightly pained. “Right Satoshi?” 

Toma glanced round, but Ohno seemed to be distracted with spot on the ground nearby. “Satoshi?”

“I think we have a problem,” the other admitted, still staring at the empty spot. “I put the gun over here, and it’s gone.”

“... What? Where is it then?” Toma asked, suddenly slightly nervous.

By way of an answer, there were footsteps from behind the pair, and both of them turned to find out who was coming towards them.

“Right here,” a voice spoke. Tegoshi Yuya was standing by the now open entrance to the studio, holding the gun in front of him in his shaking hand. “I’m the writer here. And I’ve got a better ending for you. The stunning reporter you left for dead comes back to life, finds you two idiots and saves the day, and then writes a drama about it and gets a lot of money.”

“I like that ending,” Yamashita nodded, the terrified expression on his face suddenly taking on one of hope.

“I don’t,” Toma objected, and with no fear, began to walk towards Tegoshi.

“I thought he was dead,” Ohno frowned. “Well, he still looks dead,” he added, eyeing the other’s dirt and blood covered hair, face and clothes.

Tegoshi began to back up as Toma walked towards him, attempting desperately to fire a shot from the gun, but no matter how many times he tried, no bullets were fired. Toma launched himself forward and grabbed the man’s arm, and used his other to hit him hard in the side of his head. Tegoshi crumpled to the ground, the gun falling to the ground beside him. He took a couple of bullets from his pocket, and waved them at the unconscious man. “It helps if you put these in first,” he spoke with a smirk.

“Now, where were we?” Toma asked himself in a deadly tone after admiring his handiwork. There was a trail of blood running down the unconscious man’s cheek. He took the gun back, and placed it in its original position along with the bullets, before turning to face Yamashita again. Except that he was no longer there. 

“Satoshi, where did Yamashita go?” he growled, grabbing the other by the neck and pinning him to the reception desk. Ohno was still clutching his side, and the bloodstain on his shirt was becoming bigger and bigger.

“I don’t know but I think I’m hurt bad, Toma...” Ohno whimpered.

“Find him you idiot!” Toma responded unsympathetically, and before he had barely finished speaking, the phone on the desk rang, and Toma let go of the other man, both of them staring at the phone suspiciously. Toma picked up the receiver, and spoke into it. “Hello?”

“Now it’s time for me to play a little game,” a voice spoke. It was the same distorted tone as the killer. “It’s called guess who just called the police.” The voice became that of Yamashita, and in frustration Toma threw down the receiver, which landed dangerously close to Ohno’s head. And before Ohno could complain about almost being hit, Toma had disappeared down one of the corridors into the studio.

Ohno, bent over almost double in pain, picked up the phone, and put it to his ear. “Hello?”

“What the hell are you doing? Why did you get involved in this?” Yamashita hissed. He was trying to keep his voice quiet, because he could hear Toma crashing around nearby. 

Ohno was quiet for a moment, as he thought about the answer. It was hard to think while he was in so much pain. This was so much worse than being fake killed in Maou. “He said he’d buy me a new fishing rod. He also said I was great at gutting stuff and he needed my skills.” Judging by the pain from his stab wounds, he wondered if Toma had needed him at all. “Did you really call the police?”

“Of course I did.”

There was silence again, and then Ohno spoke sadly. “Oh. I guess I’m not going to have chance to use that new fishing rod then.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” was Yamashita’s only response and the phone went dead.

\---------

Toma’s anger at finding Yamashita gone had driven him out of control, and as he wandered through the corridors hunting for the missing man, he was slashing wildly at posters fixed on the walls, leaving a trail of destruction behind him. He reached the end of one corridor, which lead in two different directions, but before he had chance to consider which direction to head in, someone burst out of a nearby door, and he felt a sharp pain in his chest. Pinned against the wall, he glanced down to see what was causing the pain, and found himself impaled with the end of a brand new fishing rod. A fishing rod held by the very person he was looking for.

While Toma got over the shock, Yamashita pulled the rod from the other’s body, and broke into a run, heading back in the direction Toma had just come from. He glanced round to find the other had recovered and was heading after him, so he sped up. But when he reached the reception area, he found the door had been locked again, and he tugged on it desperately, but it wouldn’t budge. He turned round and Toma was right beside him. The killer reached up, and pressed his hands against Yamashita’s neck, pinning him against the glass door, squeezing tight. 

“Say hi to Yuma for me,” the killer spoke coldly.

Yamashita stared at Toma through hazed vision as he struggled to breathe with the increasing pressure on his throat, and wondered how it had come to this. He and Toma had been working together for years, and now he was going to end his life. He stopped squirming, let his body relax, and had just accepted that he was going to die here in this studio, when suddenly a shot fired from somewhere in the room.

Toma’s face took on a surprised, pained expression, and his grip on Yamashita’s neck loosened. As he put his hand to his neck and tried to catch his breath, he watched as Toma crumpled to the ground, blood spreading from a fresh wound on his chest. Behind him, stood Tegoshi Yuya, as before, gun now hanging loosely in one hand by his side as he stared in shock at what he had just done. He could see the headlines now. Local reporter kills Johnny’s psycho killer.

“Thank -” Yamashita began to speak once he had caught his breath, but he was interrupted by a sudden groan from behind the reception desk, and Tegoshi and Yamashita’s gaze followed the sound until they spotted Ohno emerging from behind, badly injured, but still alive. When his gaze met Yamashita’s, that famous sadistic grin returned to his face, and he stood up straight. 

Yamashita reacted quickly, and broke into a run, heading down that now familiar corridor once again. He heard footsteps speeding down the corridor behind him, and as he continued to run for his life, the sound of music coming from a room nearby reached his ears. He realised it was the room they’d been holding the party in, and he made his way towards it, knowing the door could be locked from the inside.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside, but despite his injuries, Ohno was right behind him and he didn’t have chance to close the door before he was inside too, leaping at him. Yamashita fell back from the force, and they rolled over the back of one of the couches that had been set up for the party, onto the cushions and then crashing to the floor in front of it.

Somewhere along the way, the AKB48 DVD had been replaced with Arashi’s Clips DVD, and as the pair wrestled on the ground, rather ironically, Happiness was playing on the screen. Ohno groaned each time one of his wounds was touched and he was clearly quickly running out of strength, but Yamashita wanted to end this quickly. 

He pulled away a little from Ohno, and reached up with one hand to the television standing nearby. Using all of his remaining strength, he tugged it until it toppled from its stand, and he sat back and watched as it fell towards Ohno’s head. The song continued to play right up to the moment it impacted, and Ninomiya Kazunari’s smiling face was the last thing Ohno saw as the screen smashed into his face. There was the sound of smashing glass and sparks of electricity, and amongst all that, Ohno’s agonized screams as his body shook due to the electric current flowing through it. After a minute or so, the man’s body went still.

Certain now that Ohno was dead, he stood up and began to head slowly back down the corridors towards the reception. He was still in disbelief that he had just killed someone, and not only someone, one of his colleagues. And aside from that, not only had he just killed one of his colleagues, there were several more lying dead or injured around the building. He once again stepped over the dead body of Matsumoto Jun as he entered the reception area once again. 

Tegoshi had put the gun down now, but was still staring in shock at the body of Ikuta Toma on the ground, as if he would suddenly come to life again. And when there was a sudden groan from the room, both of them thought it had actually happened, until another figure in the room suddenly sat up. Yokoyama Yuu had been unconscious throughout the action, but had finally come round, clutching his shoulder.

Yamashita immediately crouched down beside him. “Are you okay?” he asked, although the bloodstain on his shoulder told him the answer. Yoko didn’t even answer, his eyes shocked and still on the dead body on the ground.

Outside, police sirens began to sound as the cars approached the scene.

\---------

“Tonight, as members of Johnny’s Entertainment tried and forget the events of the past few days, the party ended dramatically early. It began with a frantic call to the police, and ended with a bloodbath. Several more idols are dead, a couple more left injured, and we are now receiving reports that Johnny Kitagawa himself has been found dead in his office. 

More to come tomorrow morning. But for now, I’m on the way to the hospital myself. This is Tegoshi Yuya, signing off.”

Tegoshi moved away from the cameras, and rushed over to an ambulance, where two paramedics were loading a stretcher into the back. Lying on the stretcher, conscious but in pain, Detective Masuda Takahisa glanced up as a hand took his own.

“How are you feeling, Massu?” Tegoshi asked with a tenderness to his voice that wasn’t often heard from him.

Masuda reached up with his free hand and removed the oxygen mask from his face, giving the man looking down at him a weak smile. “I’ve been better,” he laughed a little. “And I missed all the action... what happened?”

Tegoshi thought for a moment how he could explain the events, and then simply shook his head. “You concentrate on getting better for now,” he told him, and then a smile came to his face. “I’ll tell you one thing now though. It’ll make a fantastic drama.”


End file.
